TV presenter Fern Britton has revealed that Felicity Kendal inspired her to get her first tattoo – two butterflies on her stomach – at the age of 53. Here, four readers share their own thoughts on getting tattooed and whether they regret it.

Hannah Frost: 'Sure, I might regret it later, but it means something to me'

Tattoos are a subject people just can't help but have an opinion about. Of course, there's a matter of taste. Fern Britton's tattoos could be seen as a desperate cry for attention – as many people who oppose tattoos often think – but it's more likely that she's just doing what makes her happy.

Being tattooed, you get used to certain questions: why did you do it? Aren't you going to regret it when you're old? You also get used to the subtext: that was a stupid idea, tattoos are pointless. Anti-tattoo people often preach that they're a bad choice because they're permanent. But what decision isn't permanent? People make choices with consequences you can't take back every day of their lives.

I only have one tattoo, one I designed myself and considered for two years before getting it done, shortly after my 18th birthday. To most people, that screams "immature mistake". Sure, I might regret it later, but it means something to me, and when I'm old and wrinkled, I'll see not a bad decision, but a willingness to dare.

Kate Godfrey aka Clio: 'I want to live up to the beauty of my designs'

My tattoos are secret. I work as a management consultant, mainly in the Middle East, and dress in black-and-navy suits for work, with conservative pearls. I can't colour my hair. Sometimes, in Saudi Arabia, Sudan, or rural Pakistan, I wear a burqa for meetings. Underneath my suits, I have flowers across my belly, bright pinks fading to the edges of the foliage; swallows on my ribcage.

I travel to Singapore for my tattoos, spending money for good work. It's an incentive to stay pretty – I want to live up to the beauty of my designs. I started getting tattoos because they were expensive and pretty, but it's more than that. It's the sense of control of my body that I'm addicted to. I can alter it without hurting it; I can decorate it, and I can put my identity on it. God gave me a big nose, but I own my body and I have stamped myself on it.

Externally, I may look conservative, but I'm not. And there's one clue to that – the Latin tag in delicate old-tea brown on my left wrist.

Katie Khan: 'Sometimes the process of adding layers of ink also adds to your story'

My first tattoo, on the inside of my wrist, was a mistake. Young, and in love, I dived straight in with the classic blunder: the initials of my young love. When he cheated on me three weeks later, I stared sadly at my healing wrist for 12 more months, willing it to disappear, or act out some quasi-voodoo on its namesake. Six months later, I added a Japanese kanji, hoping to hide my tattoo.

The subsequent inking of a tiger lily over the whole thing taught me that it doesn't matter what the tattoo means, just visit the most creative, most expensive artist you can find. (I imagine Fern's butterflies are bold and colourful, and when she belly-laughs they flutter.)

They say tattoos should reflect your personality. But my cover-up tattoo is as messy and meaningful as my relationships. Hidden in the depths of my dermis remains the imprint of my first love – but me and my tattoo have both moved on; we've evolved, cathartically. Sometimes the process of adding layers of ink also adds to your story.

I got my only tattoo in my mid-40s and now, at nearly 60, I've been thinking about them again. Not because of Fern Britton, but because I'm trying to write an academic article about them. Lombroso, the Italian doctor seen by some as the "father" of criminology, saw them as a mark of atavism and criminality. But I disagree and had the tattoo done, in part, to spite him.

My research shows that not only was Lombroso fascinated by tattoos and prisoner art and artefacts, but many other early criminologists were. More depressingly I find that there are modern-day "tatisticians", suggesting that tattoos are associated with crime, deviance and mental health problems.

I believe that association is entirely socio-cultural. There are criminals with tattoos – arty books laud those of Russian inmates, Japanese yakuza or American drug gangs. Some Japanese swimming pools ban them and the Met ask even civil staff to declare their tattoos. But as I and Fern Britton show, many tattooed people are not criminal!

• This article was amended on 15 July 2011. An editing error mangled one of the first part of Katie Khan's submission. The words "from somebody young, (and in love,)" in her first sentence have now been removed